


Hermione Lovegood and the Last Enemy

by stabbyunicorn



Series: Hermione Lovegood and the Last Enemy [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, D/s, Death, Demons, Drama, F/F, Kinky, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 18:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13793595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stabbyunicorn/pseuds/stabbyunicorn
Summary: ⚠️ Death. An undercurrent of kink. One somewhat explicit scene.Hermione and Luna live happily. Happily enough. They try to avoid their grief: Xeno died in the war. The Grangers died in a car accident in Australia.But demons find them, and tear everything apart. Who summoned the demons? Why?“When it’s me, I repeat to myself: ‘I’m Severus Snape, I hate you all.’ I find it scares them off rather well.”





	Hermione Lovegood and the Last Enemy

Hermione and Luna had not managed two dinners with the Weasleys before their short-lived secret had come to an end. It had been Hermione’s fault, of course. She had a nasty habit of breaking down into fits of giggles. Or, perhaps they were fits of tears. It always was difficult to tell the difference. Rather frustrating, really, and of course the fits were most inconvenient, as well.

“Hermione! Are you being attacked?” Luna asked, concerned frown upon her face. This was most unusual for Luna. Hermione said her face usually held a ‘dreamy stare,’ which always flattered Luna greatly.

“Headspace Gigglifiers can be quite a bother, you know,” Luna continued. “When it’s me, I repeat to myself: ‘I’m Severus Snape, I hate you all.’ I find it scares them off rather well.”

Hermione’s giggling only grew all the stronger, bless her. Luna patted her softly, muttering “there, there.” The remaining Weasleys simply stared. Molly’s arm was still outstretched, a bowl of bread in hand.

“Honestly, Luna,” Hermione attempted a rally. “‘Nevling Longbutts?’ How—”

Alas, her brave attempt to collect herself fell apart, and she again collapsed into her fit of giggles.

“It’s their name, Hermione,” said Luna sensibly, which ought to have settled the matter. George seemed to agree—he always was quick on the uptake.

Hermione struggled for breath. “And just who named them?” she asked, pointedly. It was a rather irrelevant point, really: they were named what they were named.

“I’m sure I don’t remember,” said Luna, her eyes wide with innocence.

Molly hid a smile. Ginny seemed confused. Ron looked like he just wanted to know if Nevling Longbutts were, in fact, real. 

Arthur was simply tired. The Ministry was a mess lately, though of course, it always was. But at least Fudge was no longer baking goblins into pies, and the Rotfang Conspiracy had lost most its foothold. 

Even so, the Ministry was always exhausting, as both Luna and Hermione had been learning first-hand with their efforts to close Azkaban. They’d thought they’d had Kinglsey on-board, too, but he’d only ended up caring about removing the dementors, in the end.

“And how am I supposed to pretend they don’t exist when _I’m_ the one who discovered them? I took the _photos_ , Luna!” exclaimed Hermione. Luna looked at Hermione crossly. A slight red tinge crept up Hermione’s cheeks.

Ron was delighted. ‘Longbutts,’ he mouthed. He took a roll from the bread bowl. Molly finally realized she was still holding it aloft, and put it down.

“You don’t have these problems with Snorkacks, and you love Sally,” said Luna. “You take her on a walk not once, not twice, but three times a day. You don’t have any difficulty saying _she_ doesn’t exist.”

It wasn’t a very fair comparison, of course, but Luna didn’t mind. Hermione had much more practice denying the existence of Snorkacks than she did Nevling Longbutts, and the Longbutts’ name was ridiculous, even for Luna. Not that she’d admit as much to Hermione.

Hermione glanced away, smiling softly. “I _do_ love Sally…”

Sally, of course, was Hermione’s rather large, very intelligent, and entirely fluffy pet snorkack. She always seemed to know when Hermione needed her, and Hermione never seemed to have to tell her what to do.

Her horn was magnificent: long, crumpled, and with a strong resemblance to an Erumpment’s horn. It even exploded when prodded, or if Sally got annoyed. Only, the explosion was magical: it rendered magic impossible for several minutes, with a radius of over a dozen meters.

Sometimes the creatures were real, and sometimes they may not have been. It wasn’t important. Not really. It only mattered that Hermione and Luna enjoyed arguing over them—so long as they could keep a straight face, of course.

* * *

It had taken a few more dinners, but the Weasleys had all caught on eventually, more or less.

Now, Hermione and Luna ate with the Weasleys nearly every night. Molly was rather convinced they’d starve if she didn’t feed them, and she really wasn’t wrong: although Luna and Hermione would try to cook for themselves every Sunday afternoon, their experiments had never ended up edible. Then again, edibility was never the point. 

Molly always made sure to send extra treats for Sally along with them when they left.

The dinners could be trying on their patience at times, but they wouldn’t give them up for the world. They were family: Arthur and Molly always said so.

Even Ginny. Bless her. She meant well.

Every few weeks, Ginny would have one new thing or another. Helping George with the shop or flying with Buckbeak; raising Pygmy Puffs or cleaning Grimmauld.

After Harry’s invisibility cloak had been stolen, Ginny’d spent a month studying the Hallows while trying to play detective and find it. She hadn’t had much luck. She had, however, invited herself to stay with Hermione and Luna so she could wring them both for information. 

It could have ended better. They’d finally gotten her to leave only a week ago, thank goodness. It was heaven to have the house to themselves once more.

Ginny had been relentless. If she hadn’t been asking them questions about the Hallows, she was trying to cheer them.

“So, when are you getting married?” asked Ginny. Again. “Harry says you go oh so well together. It really makes him happy, you know, to see happiness about, and the two of you make each other so happy, of course…”

She trailed off, glancing at Hermione, then at Luna, then the Weasley clock on which they both had hands. She was suddenly very quiet. It happened, sometimes; most often when she thought of Fred.

“You both,” said Ginny softly, “you both also lost… I mean who will walk you— well, of course, Dad would, he’d be delighted—”

Molly shared a glance with Hermione, who sighed. Luna reached a hand around hers and squeezed.

Hermione had saved her parents from the war, but they had both then died in a car accident in Australia. And Xeno… well, Luna did her best to convince herself she’d see him again. Hermione tried to talk about him, sometimes, but Luna had to stay strong for her.

“We will probably get married, yes,” said Luna, ever patient, mercifully cutting Ginny off. She folded her hands in the lap of her robe—the green one, Hermione’s favorite. “But I’m sure only the Nestlethinks know when.”

“Luna, how many times… Nestlethinks aren’t—”

“Yes, well,” interrupted Ginny. “I have to go, too.”

Hermione and Luna always began fighting over creatures when they were getting ready to leave. As far as foreplay went, it was perhaps not the most subtle. They’d always go home after, have their fun—not for too long, just an hour or two— and then sit for awhile in Luna’s old bedroom until it was time for bed. And then the next day would begin, and they’d do it all again.

They’d had to stop for awhile when Ginny’d stayed with them. Hermione had not done well with the deviation from her routine, and if Luna were honest, she’d chafed, too. They’d not made it into the Ministry for their campaign even once—Luna still felt Hermione ought to have come up with an acronym for them, but she’d refused: partly due to her past attempts at devising acronyms, but partly, she’d admitted, to give Luna more interesting excuses to punish her.

Even the wonders of apparation and portkeys had not allowed Luna a single opportunity to drag Hermione away on a creature hunt. Hermione had been desperately in need of just such an outing, even a quick one. It was their usual weekday morning activity, right after coffee and biscuits.

But their Sunday kitchen adventures, their playtime, their evenings alone… Whatever Luna tried, Ginny was always butting in. 

Hermione had grown pale and rather unkempt. Luna had finally gotten her up to the bedroom one night, just to lay down and have some quiet time together reflecting beneath the paintings of their friends Luna had made so long ago.

It had lasted three minutes, which might as well have been none, really.

Ginny had found them, and had been rather overcome by the paintings. She’d gazed at the portrait of herself.

Luna was certain she saw a tear tug at the corner of Ginny’s eye.

She thought she saw the same tear in Ginny’s eye now, as Ginny stood from the dinner table, her cloak leaping to her hand. Luna thought she’d rather like a self-summoning cloak of her own. Hermione didn’t need one, of course. She barely needed a wand at all.

“I still— I still have an errand to run before I get Harry from Andy’s,” said Ginny. “Merlin knows he’d forget to leave. The two of you are just like Harry. I see your faces after you visit Teddy. He’s really good for you. For Harry, too, of course.”

Luna tugged on the collar of Hermione’s robe. Hermione leaned into it, her legs moving beneath her to somehow pull her to her feet.

“Not so fast!” said Molly, reaching behind her to the side table, grabbing a little bag. “Don’t forget! For Sally.”

Hermione beamed. “Thanks, Molly! Poor Sally would waste away without all your lovely meals for her. Shall I bring her tomorrow? She does love to visit.”

Molly began to smile, then caught herself. “Ooh, best not. Hagrid will be joining us, and he’ll bring Fang, and as darling as Sally is, you know she can be rather…”

Hermione nodded quickly. Last time Hagrid had visited, Sally had exploded her horn at Fang, and the Burrow had almost collapsed around them as the magic failed.

Only Hagrid had saved them. His giant-like skin had left him undazed by the explosion, and he’d become a load-bearing support all his own as Bill and Charlie went out to cut some trees. Sally had almost blown her horn again by the time Fang had left. Hermione had tried to admonish Sally, but Sally had just turned her snout away with an annoyed face.

“Come, Hermione!” commanded Luna. “It’s time!”

  


* * *

One second, the Floo lit green. The next, Molly Weasley had stormed out. Sally leapt from her bed, where she’d been lounging lazily.

There hadn’t exactly been time for Luna and Hermione to collect themselves.

“Quick, you must—” 

Molly blinked.

Luna looked up, her mouth dropping open slightly, eyes just bit wider than usual. She was lounging upon the chair in her living room. She was still dressed in her dark green robe from dinner. Her feet were resting casually upon a footstool. It was all perfectly normal.

The footstool was nothing unusual, Luna was sure. Who, with access to a Hermione who enjoyed such things, would miss a chance to use her for such a purpose? Hermione had been doing quite a lovely job of it, too: perfect and still and obedient on hands and knees, with nary a shred of clothing, nor so much as a whimper, even as Luna’s feet dug rather harshly into the angry bleeding red welts upon her back.

With a yelp, Hermione stumbled away. Luna’s feet tumbled unceremoniously from her back, scraping against a few of the welts, her delicate socks picking up a drop or two of blood as they went.

“Molly!” exclaimed Luna. “I— we—”

Had Molly time, and had she not been so shocked herself, she might have been pleased to catch Luna so off-guard.

As it was, she hadn’t even time for the shock.

“You must come at once! Something— it’s—”

Words failing her, she waved her wand instead. A robe conjured itself and hung in the air before Hermione, who had climbed to her feet and looked nearly ready to rush up to the bedroom.

“What—” Hermione began.

“To Grimmauld, it’s safest,” said Molly. “No! No time to get anything. Into the Floo! Hurry! They’re after— Arthur’s Patronus said—”

Hermione and Luna exchanged the briefest of glances. Hermione nodded, and grabbed the robe still hanging in the air before her.

In one motion, Luna stood and whipped her wand from behind her ear. “Accio!” she exclaimed, not breaking stride. A cloak flew from the hall and draped itself over her shoulders.

Hermione, robe now fastened around herself, fell in line beside Luna, her eyes darting around the room. Sally trotted along behind; she always knew just what to do.

“Accio,” said Hermione, holding out her hand. Her wand flew from the hall, and she caught it deftly.

Molly nodded, spinning on her heel to lead them back to the Floo.

“Right dears. The Floo should still be ope—”

The Floo was indeed still open. But the other end was no longer Grimmauld Place.

From within the green flame out poured a thick smoke, red the color of blood, condensing into a rather small, vaguely human-shaped form. Luna glanced at Hermione, but she did not seem to know what it was, either. It was doubtful it meant well.

It began to raise a hand. Luna felt a tickle of enchantments crawl across her shoulders. She supposed they were likely anti-apparition and anti-portkey jinxes. Hermione probably could have identified them by feel. She had a sense for such things.

“’Protego,’ then run!” yelled Hermione.

Molly didn’t question. She cast Protego in time with Luna. Their spells wove together.

Hermione lowered her wand as Sally sat up and raised her head high. Luna heard Molly swear as Hermione touched the wand, gently, to Sally’s horn.

The world lit white.

  


* * *

Hermione had been dazed by the explosion, but the shield charms had saved Molly and Luna from the brunt of it.

Sally’s horn had, however, shut off the Floo: the condensing smoke had collapsed back through it with a snap.

Luna saw Hermione’s eyes open just as a tower of flame erupted, nearly where the Floo had been, swirling and bubbling like an angry inky liquid. Some of it was black, and some was red, and some was a rather nice shade of viridian Hermione would probably have enjoyed if the circumstances had been a tad better.

And buried within the inky flame were two eyes glowing an eerie, solid white.

Hermione waved her wand.

Nothing happened, of course. Sally’s demagification field wouldn’t last more than a few minutes, but that did little to help them in the meantime. Hermione’s fist clenched.

“I said ‘Run!’” yelled Hermione.

Molly looked like she may have wanted to make a sarcastic response, but it really wasn’t the time.

So, they ran, Luna supporting Hermione all the way.

Behind them, the thing, whatever it was, roared. The sound’s screech pierced their skulls; its thunder shook the earth.

Luna felt the tingle of magic’s return just as they passed the garden. The Gulping Plimpys had gone silent.

For once, Luna wished the moon would retreat behind a cloud. Instead, its light gently brushed across the house, and through it, they could see everything.

They could see the creature burrowing through the house. The kitchen where they’d experimented with cooking, never mind that it never did end up edible… the living room where they’d played and had simply let themselves be… the study where they’d organized and planned their anti-Azkaban campaign… 

Luna wanted to wrap her arms around Hermione, to cover her eyes, but she could barely move herself. She knew where it would go next. It would go to their refuge. To where they’d always gone whenever they’d needed quiet; whenever they’d needed to remember they weren’t alone…

“No!” gasped Hermione, as it somehow burrowed through the spiral staircase, the tower collapsing around it, up through where Luna’s old room had been…

Luna’s hand found Hermione’s, and gripped it tightly.

The creature burst from the tower. It hurtled through the air, spinning almost ball-like, before careening into the ground meters from Hermione, Luna, and Molly.

The shockwave nearly knocked them off their feet.

The creature could only be described as a demon: it was round and slightly oblong, with a demented wide grin slashed across its face, filled with too-long teeth sharp like razors. From the sides of its head came two jagged, wildly asymmetrical horns that may also have functioned as ears.

Its skin couldn’t be seen beneath the boiling ink that flowed and dripped across it, some green, some red, most of it black, and, in glimpses peeking through from below the surface, some a terrifyingly brilliant white.

Around the monster lied pieces of wood painted with pieces of faces. Some Hermione here, some Ron there. Luna felt a small sigh escape her as she looked at what was left of her paintings, and of her old room.

It took a step forward, across the boundary of the demagification field, and the ink enveloping it simmered a bit less angrily.

The boil-like swirls of glaring white ink peeked through all the more, and some began to drip down onto the ground below.

A drop bright as sunlight fell upon a shard of painting filled with a golden chain of text.

The shard melted slowly away, swirling into ink itself, the words ‘friends… friends… friends…’ painted upon it twisting into the white.

Another drop fell, this time towards a shard with Ginny’s face. Luna’s eyes widened slightly. Ginny had been her first friend…

Luna tried to grab her, but Hermione had dived for the shard.

“Hermione!” yelled Molly.

Hermione had grabbed the shard and rolled away.

Then the demon’s eyes focused upon her.

It took breath.

The gust of wind ripped away the very ground upon which Hermione had been standing, Hermione along with it.

Luna waved her wand and summoned Hermione. It wasn’t enough. She hung in midair, slowly slipping towards the demon’s hungry mouth.

A large ball of white fluff nearly the size of a coffee table leapt at the demon from its side. It slammed into the demon’s head, knocking it away. Sally yelped as she fell back to the ground, the sickly ink dripping from and eating at her fur.

The demon roared and wrenched its head back. But it had been enough: Hermione tumbled into Luna as the summoning charm finally did its job.

A moment later, Sally made her way over, carefully avoiding putting weight on her right front paw. She sniffed Hermione and, once she was sure she was alright, licked her face.

The ground rumbled as the demon rolled back to its clawed feet and stubby, chicken-like legs.

Hermione and Luna clambered to their own feet as Molly fired off a sickly yellow curse. It was swallowed within the creature’s folds of ink. 

Molly took a deep breath. “Avada Kedavra!” she yelled. A green beam launched from her wand. It hit the demon.

The demon shivered in what must have been pleasure. It seemed to swell an inch or two. Where the curse had hit, the ink turned the bright, dangerous white.

“Aguamenti!” shouted Luna.

“Nice,” muttered Hermione, rather shakily.

But the jet of water simply flowed off the demon, even as it was knocked a foot back by the force of it.

Hermione’s eyes lit up.

“Spear!” she yelled.

Luna transfigured a rock into a wooden spear.

“Stronger!” commanded Hermione. “Make it sharp. Big!”

She was waving her wand at a patch of air that was beginning to shimmer.

Molly fired another jet of water at the demon’s face. It shook it off and took a heavy step forward.

A wave of Luna’s wand and the spear was a half foot around and meters long, with a jagged, sharp tip. The whole thing gleamed, now a brightly reflective metal.

“Lift it!” yelled Hermione. The patch of air was now humming softly, glowing and pulsing and refracting light around it.

Luna raised it with a spell—it was much too heavy to hold. The monster opened its mouth. It looked about to breathe—

Hermione pulled the rear of the spear into its place within the glowing, shimmering air—it hissed at the contact—then grabbed Luna and dove aside.

A thunderous bang sounded.

The spear had disappeared.

The demon took a step back. Then another, back into the demagification field.

It opened its mouth and prepared to roar. It stopped.

The ink covering its body began to boil more and more furiously. It should have been loud, but Luna couldn’t make it out.

Soundlessly it bubbled, writhed, and swirled, faster and faster, up, sucked through the hole the spear had punched through the back of the demon’s mouth, collapsing, wisping into the demagification field, dissipating into nothingness.

And then it was gone. Yet, gone as it was, the damage it had wreaked remained. Luna stared at what was left of her home.

She felt Sally nudging her, whimpering softly. Hermione moved against her.

Molly got to her feet. Her mouth was moving. Luna tried to speak, but couldn’t hear herself.

Molly mimed a pirouette. Luna blinked. She felt Hermione nod and grab her.

A second later, she felt herself being squeezed through a small space, and the kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place snapped into view before her.

  


* * *

“Why, Hermione? Why? That was—”

Luna was yelling. It was a very uncommon occurrence. 

She was not yelling due to lack of hearing: Molly had put that to right shortly after they had arrived at Grimmauld. Nor was she yelling over the din from outside the door, where members of the Order were shouting and running to and fro, delivering no doubt important messages to one another.

She was yelling because she was angry, and because she was distraught.

Luna took a deep breath. She tried counting all the green items strewn about the barely-lit small bedroom. Unfortunately, while the house had once been owned by a Slytherin family, Ginny had redone everything in tasteful Gryffindor colors. There was barely a hint of green anywhere but for the robe Luna was wearing.

Again, she took a breath.

“It was a painting, Hermione! I was rather attached to it, yes, but it still was a painting! You—”

“I’m sorry, my Lady,” Hermione tried.

“No, Hermione. Safeword,” said Luna. Her voice lowered so it was barely audible over the noise from outside the door. “I am not talking in-scene, Hermione. You could have died.”

Silence hung in the air, only disturbed by the people shuffling through the hall outside.

“I don’t want you to die, Hermione.”

Hermione’s cheek twitched. “But you, I thought— Your friends…” Hermione did not seem exactly sure what to say.

Luna did not know what to say, either.

“I— you were so alone,” said Hermione, softly. Tears welled up around her eyes.

Luna didn’t say anything for a long moment.

“I was, I suppose,” she said, at last. “I’d be more alone without you, Hermione.”

Hermione looked away. “I know,” she said. “I wasn’t… Oh, I suppose I wasn’t thinking.”

Luna nodded absently. She brought her eyes to Hermione’s, and then it hit her.

“Everything ends,” said Luna. “Sometimes, new things begin.”

Hermione sniffed, and rubbed her tears away.

“New things?”

Luna nodded. “Maybe we can build you a new tower,” said Luna. “You could help paint it. We could make it bit better each evening. There would always be something to do, of course. And if there wasn’t, there’d be a balcony. A balcony would be nice, wouldn’t it? We could sit there every evening to watch the sky. The clouds, the sunset, the moonrise… You can still take care of Sally. Or, really, she can take care of you…”

A small smile tugged at Hermione’s lip. “I can still walk her three times a day,” she said. She glanced over at where Sally was laying, resting on a transfigured bed, curled around her burnt paw. She somehow seemed to raise an eyebrow. “When she’s better, I mean.”

“Four times on Sunday!” said Luna. Hermione’s smile widened.

“I’m sorry,” said Hermione. “I just— I don’t know how to… you know. Routine is important for me. It… I don’t know.”

Luna listened, her hand trailing through Hermione’s bushy hair, occasionally getting caught up.

“I did notice,” said Luna, smiling softly, staring at Hermione as if she were a Flickering Fancy—for she was, to Luna. “Sometimes, though…”

“Everything ends,” said Hermione.

People were still rushing about outside. Their feet left shadows that stretched beneath the doorway.

Luna reached a hand up to Hermione’s face. She brushed the half-dried remains of a tear. Her own tears were still trickling down her cheeks.

“How are you feeling?” asked Luna. “We did end rather abruptly.”

“I’m okay,” said Hermione. “But you… I know you can drop when we don’t—”

“I’m perfectly fine,” said Luna, before the worry could form within Hermione’s eyes. She felt a hand upon her own cheek. She tried to remain strong.

Their quiet was interrupted by loud shouts from outside the door.

“They found him!” they heard someone shout. Had it been Arthur? “Ginny’s bringing him—”

Whatever was said next could not be made out over the din.

“I suppose we should join them, shouldn’t we?” asked Luna, forcing a wide smile onto her face.

Hermione waved her hand at the door, and it opened. Something fluttered in Luna’s chest. It always did when Hermione let her magic play.

* * *

The kitchen was packed. It was somehow as dingy as ever, in spite of its red paint and gold trim; the light barely covered the table, much less the room’s many inhabitants.

“Demons?”

“How many Aurors did we lose?” “I think two.” “Too many.”

“In the Ministry?” “How?” “Did it come from the muggle tubes? I’ve always said they dig too greedily—” “The goblins could have—”

“It came from the Unspeakables, I heard—”

“He’s here,” came Arthur’s strong, exhausted, yet unyielding voice.

In the kitchen doorway stood Harry, arm around Ginny’s shoulder. He looked barely able to stand.

He stared at the room.

“Why are you looking at me?” he demanded, although the demand was rather weak, delivered with a jagged breath.

“Harry, come, please sit,” said Arthur. Ginny guided him over to a seat near Luna and Hermione, shoving Elphias Doge aside. She looked very shaken and pale.

Ginny took her own seat between Luna and Harry. Her eyes lingered on Luna for a long moment, then Hermione, before she tore them back to Harry.

“Right,” said Arthur. “Harry, would you like to—?”

Harry said nothing for several seconds. Then, firmly but quietly, he said: “No.”

There was a long, awkward pause. No one spoke a word. “I’m not who you need. Not today. Not now. Maybe if I— but right now, I’m decent with a wand. Barely decent, if I’m honest. This one is not for me. It’s one for me to sit out.”

Much of the Order looked as if they wished to protest, but none were willing to break the silence.

“Right, well,” said Arthur, finally. “I suppose then I shall— Right. So.”

He paused.

“This evening, nearly an hour ago now, somebody broke into the Department of Mysteries. They—”

Some around the table began to mutter. Arthur raised his voice.

“None of the time turners were taken, no!” he said. “The Time Room’s new protections remained unbroken. We can probably thank Bill for that. Where they went was, well, it was worse.

“Their motivation is still unknown. Whoever it was, they went to the veil room.”

Luna and Hermione exchanged glances with Ginny, and tried not to look at Harry.

“They were noticed by the Unspeakables while in the middle of some unknown magic. The air was thick with it. The Unspeakables are not forthcoming, but we are rather certain even they do not know what was being attempted.

“We are not certain what was being chanted, but we do know two names were mentioned in the chant. ‘Lovegood,’ and ‘Granger.’”

Luna and Hermione stiffened.

“Whatever they were attempting, it went wrong, didn’t it?” asked Ginny. “Something…”

“Yes, I was getting to that. Harry had apparated over as soon as Kingsley’s Patronus reached him, of course. The individual, when they saw him, froze; we thought in fear, perhaps. See, there was a crowd by now. The Unspeakables wouldn’t let anyone interrupt. They said it could blow half of London, but then, they’re Unspeakables: they may have prevented interruption just to see what happened.

“A moment after Harry had appeared, whoever it was had summoned him and held a wand to his throat.”

“It was the Elder Wand,”said Harry. “They disarmed me, too. And they had the other two, as well.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. She glanced over at Luna, who bit her lip.

“Hagrid is checking if Dumbledore’s tomb has been disturbed, but we must assume that Harry is right. Not that whoever it was seemed to need a wand.”

Whispers broke out about dark lords. Hermione looked down at her hands. Luna gave one a squeeze.

“The next thing we knew,” said Arthur, voice raising, “the ground shook, and the veil, well, it glowed. These… things… began to, well… ‘ooze’ is probably the best word to describe it. They began to ooze from the veil.”

Arthur looked around the room. He took a sip of water.

“Whoever it was, they glanced back at the veil. We think they were, perhaps, as frightened as the rest of us, but we couldn’t see their face beneath their hood. See, they were wearing an invisibility cloak—”

Again, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna shared a glance.

“They yelled how we couldn’t protect ‘them.’ We assume they meant you,” he gestured at Hermione and Luna. “They shoved Harry away. Must have used a banisher. There was a flash of light.”

Again, Arthur took a long sip of water. He glanced around the room, and sighed.

“When we could see again, they were gone, and the veil’s dais was encased in a gigantic stone wall. And the wall was crumbling.

“Harry must have gotten lost in the crowd, but a few minutes later Ginny managed to find him. I assume Andromeda must have told her he went— no?”

“Where else would he be?” asked Ginny. “I was on an errand when I heard. Of course I went straight to the Ministry. Harry would—”

“Yes, well, in any case,” said Arthur. “That is all we know, until, well, I’ll let Molly…”

As Molly related what had happened at Hermione & Luna’s, Hermione glanced over at Harry. He looked exhausted, but then, he often did. Tired, perhaps, of trying to live up to others’ expectations. He’d been training with anyone he could find, lately. Hermione and Luna had practiced with him, as had Ginny. He’d even trained with Aurors. Kingsley had been more than happy to arrange it.

Luna and Hermione had tried to convince him to join them in their campaign against Azkaban, but Harry had been concerned he’d end up cursing Kingsley.

Hermione herself looked nearly as tired as Harry. 

Luna thought about excusing herself and Hermione. They could do with a quiet evening together. They could do Hermione’s evening routines. It would be good for the both of them.

She was about to speak.

And then, giant inky tentacles punched through the walls.

  


* * *

Luna could see little more than inky blackness around her.

“Hermione?” she called.

Giant inky tentacles as tall as walls slithered around her, keeping a foot or two away.

“Hermione?” she called, more loudly. But the walls surrounded her. There must be others nearby, mustn’t there? There must be someone on the other side of the walls. Anyone. Hermione?

She reached out towards the ink. As soon as she touched it, it reached around her hand and began to pull. And it burned.

Luna yanked back her hand.

She could see her face reflected within the ink. A breath left her as a memory shoved itself into her thoughts. She’d tried to be rid of it, and the rest of them, but there it was, the memory from a summer nearly eight years ago: her mother’s face staring back at her from within a grimy mirror she and her father had found in a cave somewhere in France. They’d never known exactly where: Albus had taken them. He’d said there were all sorts of magical things to be found there, and indeed there had been, for this mirror showed people who Luna, barely ten years old, knew were no more.

Luna had wanted nothing more than for it to be real. Within the mirror, her mother’s hand had laid upon her shoulder, and Luna had _almost_ been able to feel it. 

And then… she had felt it: a gentle weight, a reassuring grip. She daren’t look back, lest it disappear…

Minutes later, when she finally did look behind her, she realized it had been her father’s hand. He had not been staring into the mirror, but rather down at Luna, a soft, sad smile across his face.

Luna blinked.

There was only her own reflection within the ink.

She tore her gaze away, to behind her.

Her father was not there.

No one was.

Only inky walls.

She felt her breath leave her. She glanced around for something, anything—

The sounds! Could she could hear thumps in the distance? Did one of the tentacle-walls twitch?

She could hear something from near the floors.

A whimper?

Sally!

Sally was half-trapped beneath a tentacle. She was hardly managing to breathe!

Luna conjured a knife and stabbed the tentacle. She heard a shriek. Her own shriek joined it as some of the ink splashed against her hand, burning it again.

“It’s got Sally!” yelled Luna.

She remembered the feel of Sally’s tongue lapping at her face. But what did _that_ matter? Hermione— 

Luna had to save Sally. How could Hermione look at her if she didn’t? 

She stabbed at the tentacle again and again, paying no mind to the ink splashing against her, even as it burnt her skin and ate at her robe.

Who would Hermione walk with?

Who would be there to calm her when she needed?

Who could she hug?

She pulled and pulled at Sally, but she couldn’t budge her. She could see Sally’s fur dissolving and swirling away—

The tentacle shook violently. It swelled and shoved Luna away.

Its surface began to flow like water, without actually moving at all.

And then what could only be its mouth, toothless, gaping, and hungry, slid into place. It opened wide, lifting off of Sally. 

Luna’s eyes brightened, but the ink dropped to the floor and began to slide across it, instead of over Sally, now under her.

It was going to eat her.

“No! Sally!” yelled Luna. She grabbed at Sally and pulled, but the inky mouth was already closing around her, and Sally wouldn’t budge.

So, Luna did the only thing she could do.

She jumped into the demon’s mouth.

Behind her, she heard a shout of “Luna!”

She ignored the burning of the ink, and the roar of it within her ears. She grabbed Sally. Somehow, she twisted herself under her. Pushed with her legs as hard as she could…

She thought she’d just managed to kick Sally out of the dark. A soft smile crossed her face as the burning ink surrounded her and everything turned black.

Hermione would be alright.

* * *

“Oh, Sally…” Luna could hear Hermione’s voice from far away. “Your legs… can you—”

Luna couldn’t breathe. Is this what dying felt like? It didn’t feel very good.

“You… have to be inside it…” Luna heard. She was sure she was missing some words. She didn’t want to. Just a few more words, just a bit more of her, before the end.

“Know you can… but Sally… it’ll hurt… hurt me, too…” Luna heard.

For a moment, she was afraid she would hear nothing more.

Luna heard Hermione laugh. Was she happy Sally was alive? Or was it a sob, instead? She tried to reach out. Could she even feel her legs? The ink in her ears began to throb. Was Hermione even there?

“Go, Sally,” she heard. Hermione’s voice was so very far away, now. ”Find her. Save her… love you… you’re so, so good, Sally, I—”

Nothing.

There was nothing but burning fire across her skin, and a roar within her ears.

She couldn’t breathe.

Now, even the pain was beginning to fade…

And then she felt, beyond the burning fire across her skin, a handful of something soft. 

Then the smash of a horn.

There was a second of unnatural, eerie silence. Then the ink enveloping Luna seized. It stopped flowing, and became solid.

And then, there was light.

  


* * *

“Hermione?” called a voice. “Luna? Are you— you’re alright, yeah? Where are you? Please be—”

It was Ginny.

Luna tried to peel her eyes open. Everything hurt. Her skin must be covered in blisters, it stung so.

She felt Hermione shift against her. Hermione! The feel of Hermione’s body against her skin hurt, but she didn’t mind at all.

There was something heavy atop them both. She tried to shift it. It moved a little, she thought.

Hermione groaned.

“He-Hermio—” Luna tried to speak.

“Luna! Hermione! Are you—” Ginny was calling again.

Luna realized Ginny’s voice was one in a dozen. Sounds of debris moving and people calling for each other echoed around, close yet oddly distant. She thought she could hear Molly calling for Ron…

A large chunk of kitchen ceiling lifted off her. The plaster was easily recognizable. Light screamed into her eyes, though she couldn’t quite tell from where. She felt the cool night air bite at her.

“Luna!” yelled Ginny. With a wave of her hand the piece of ceiling moved aside and fell to the ground.

“Are you alright? Is Hermione—?” she asked, her voice nearly panicked. “I— it just—”

“Her- Hermione?” Luna forced out, but Ginny was already pulling Hermione to her feet and wrapping her in a tight hug.

“You could have—” started Ginny, before she dropped down beside Luna and carefully examined her. “You’re— you’re hurt!”

She looked up and yelled for help. A blanket materialized within her hand, and she draped it over Luna’s unclothed body.

What had happened to Hermione’s favorite robe? Had it melted away? Luna thought she could still feel a strand or two of it against her skin.

“I suppose I have felt better, yes,” said Luna, her voice rather raspier than usual. “It… It is rather difficult to speak—”

“Shh!” Ginny admonished. “There’ll be— I can’t believe—”

Ginny fell into a seated position. She looked dazed as she took in her surroundings. It was no longer a house. Just rubble, amongst which dozens of Order members were sifting for survivors.

“So many must have died,” she breathed. Some probably had. But many hadn’t. Even now, Luna could see people being pulled to their feet all around. Elphias. Arthur. Kingsley.

Harry was helping Hagrid lift away chunks of upstairs.

“I thought—” Ginny whispered. “I thought I could defeat Him. But…”

She began to cry. It was probably crying, at least.

“But He’s— He can’t— I tried to defeat him. Destroy him. But I couldn’t. No one can… He’s too strong, and He’s always there. Always. I mean…”

She looked around her, and another cry-laugh left her.

“Ginny, what are you—”

Luna reached her arm out and grabbed Hermione’s leg. It was all she could reach. It was enough: Hermione fell silent.

“It’s pointless,” said Ginny. “Completely pointless calling _Him_ an enemy. Might as well greet him as a friend…”

Ginny looked at Hermione. Then Luna.

“I’m sorry. So sorry. I wanted to help, you know? You’re both so… so good. I can’t…”

Luna let go of Hermione and tried to reach for Ginny. Hermione had the same idea.

But Ginny had disappeared, with nothing but a small pop in her wake.

  


* * *

Hermione managed to address most of Luna’s injuries, but some of them would need time before they’d heal.

Luna was again dressed. She supposed now both Hermione and herself were wearing conjured robes. Luna wished her robe was green.

“I know what you were doing,” Hermione said. “Don’t do it again. Please.”

“But you need Sally, Hermione,” said Luna, matter-of-factly. “You love her.”

Hermione held Luna’s hand tight. “I did. And… I love you, too, Luna,” said Hermione. “I know you may not always be here. Everything ends. But you weren’t supposed to end. Not yet. We weren’t.”

“But if I let her die— you’re— how could you—”

“How could I look at you?” asked Hermione. “And how could you look at me if I let your house, your paintings, your friends—”

“That’s not the same, Hermione. Sally was—”

“It is the same.”

“Sally was alive.”

“And so were you.”

Luna looked away.

“I loved Sally, Luna,” said Hermione. “But I _love_ you.”

Luna couldn’t say anything. So instead, she laughed. But it wasn’t like laughter. It was overwhelming. It consumed her: her body shook, and she could not keep in the tears that ran down her face.

She felt Hermione’s arms wrap around her and hold her tight.

It was how Harry found them.

“Are you both, er, alright?” he asked. Luna felt herself begin to smile, almost. Harry never knew quite what to say, which meant what he _did_ say always was rather amusing.

“Have you seen Ginny?” asked Hermione.

“Not since before— is, er, is she alright?”

“We don’t know,” said Hermione. “She was here. She disapparated. We thought maybe she was finding you; she’s always talking about you. Harry… I think something was wrong with her.”

Harry sighed.

“She’s not been… well, I don’t know how she ever was, not really, but… She talks about you both a lot, you know? She—”

“She took your cloak!” exclaimed Hermione.

Luna looked at Hermione and blinked.

“She did?” asked Harry.

“We have to find her,” said Luna. “Harry, do you have any idea where she may have—”

“I know where she is!” exclaimed Hermione.

“Hermione, I was aski— wait, you do?”

Hermione nodded.

“Then we have to—” Harry began, but Luna held up a hand.

“This is one for you to sit out, Harry,” said Luna. She glanced at Hermione, who nodded slowly.

“I—”

“You’re not who she needs, today, Harry,” said Hermione.

Harry swallowed, and stared off towards Arthur, who was lifting a House Elf’s head off a frail looking old witch.

“I don’t think I ever have been,” said Harry. “Not really.”

“That can sometimes happen,” said Luna. “But better to know now than not know at all, don’t you think?”

“Why don’t you go back to Andy’s?” asked Hermione. “You can’t very well stay here, of course. Luna and I will find Ginny. Okay?”

Harry sighed heavily, but nodded.

He opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of talking. Instead, he gave a gentle nod, and disapparated.

* * *

“Are you okay, Hermione?” asked Luna.

“No,” said Hermione. “You’re not, either.”

“No. I’m not. Are you ready, Hermione?“

“Ready enough.”

Luna smiled a small, gentle smile. “Okay.”

Hermione reached out a hand. Luna took it. With a twist, Hermione disapparated them both.

* * *

Hermione and Luna arrived in what remained of the Ministry of Magic.

The building that had been above it was now little more than rubble, piled in great heaps, occluding the London skyline from view, but allowing the clear night sky to pour in from above.

“Where are you?” demanded Ginny’s voice, echoing from a valley amidst the debris, wherein stood the veil, still upon its dais, no longer surrounded by a Ministry nor by a mysterious department. It had been there before such things, and now, it had outlasted them.

“Where are you? Why won’t you come for me? Didn’t have a problem coming for anyone else! You take. You take it all!”

Ginny let out a scream.

“Ovrirae Mortem. Ovirea- Ouverai—”

Sparks flew from the wand in her hand. The Elder Wand. Upon her ring finger rested the Resurrection Stone. And, across her shoulders was the Cloak of Invisibility, hiding her torso from Luna and Hermione’s sight.

“Ouvrirae Mortem!”

The spell hit the veil. It began to glow white, and the fabric began to flutter in a nonexistent wind.

“Mortem Coporea!” Ginny exclaimed. A dark, smoky, blood-red halo surrounded her as a bright red beam hit the veil. As if from smoke a figure appeared; barely a shadow of a head upon a body.

The body turned away.

And again Ginny screamed. The light in the veil turned a red as fiery as the smoke surrounding Ginny.

Then, Ginny dove at the veil. Hermione and Luna could not move fast enough. Their hearts leapt…

But Ginny did not disappear behind its folds. Instead, she seemed to blur through it, turning to smoke and condensing on the other side back into a figure of smoke the color of blood.

She screamed once more, and punched the arch.

“Just do it! Come for me!” she said.

As the smoke faded, her legs gave out from beneath her. The cloak slipped from her shoulders. The wand fell from her grasp.

The veil’s fire sputtered out through a cool blue as Ginny began to sob.

Luna took a step forward, then another, until she was beside Ginny. She picked up the Cloak of Invisibility, and draped it across her own shoulders.

She sat 

Hermione, on Ginny’s other side, picked up the Elder Wand, and sat herself.

Neither spoke.

The stars moved gently through the sky overhead.

“Why?” asked Ginny eventually, her tears having long ago failed her.

“Sometimes,” said Hermione, “there isn’t a why.”

“I thought it would work,” said Ginny.

Hermione took a breath. She was trying to figure out what to say, so Luna said nothing.

“The last enemy that shall be destroyed is Death,” said Hermione, “because Death is not an enemy to be defeated. Death just… it just is. Everything ends.”

“It can’t,” said Ginny.

“It surely will,” said Luna.

“I saw you both— how could I not, at your place? It was— you were so sad, and I… I was going to try for Fred and Sirius, I mean how... but then I saw both of you, and…”

“You tried to bring Daddy back,” said Luna.

“My parents, too,” said Hermione. “It’s why they heard our names, wasn’t it? It was you, trying to bring them through the veil. And then you tried to beat the demons to us through the Floo, but, well, we didn’t know that, did we? And whatever you were doing to reach us, it didn’t mix well with Sally…”

Ginny tried very hard not to look at either of them. She fixed her eyes on the veil, still blowing.

“He shouldn’t have come for them. He shouldn’t have taken them from you. Not like— you didn’t even get to say goodbye. Hadn’t even seen them in months, and I— I just— all of your time with them, and you loved them, and it was… it was all… gone.”

“No,” said Luna, firmly.

Hermione’s eyes met hers. Ginny looked about to say something, but Luna saw Hermione squeeze her hand.

“I still love my father,” said Luna, at last. “If I didn’t, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt so badly. I still love him, and my mother, too. I still remember them. I wish so much they were still here.”

She choked down a sob. “It’s been rather difficult for me to talk about. Especially about Daddy, since he… It hurts so, so much. It hurts because there won’t be more moments with him, and that hurts because of all the moments I _did_ have. 

“I remember finding creatures with him, and staying at home, and his Wrackspurt siphons, and when he’d make hot cocoa for me in the evenings… And it hurts.

“But I have these memories. And they’re no lesser, even now. I had those moments, and those moments will always have happened. Always.”

Luna fell quiet. Her gaze, like Ginny’s, was fixed upon the veil.

“Everything ends,” said Hermione. “But for it to end, it must have first _been._ ”

* * *

Cleanup seemed an eternity of impossible conversations.

They managed to keep Ginny’s name out of things. Many had been calling for blood, for many others still had been injured. 

Some had died. Three Order members. Some they knew. Oliver. Ernie.

A few Aurors. Harry went to their funerals.

They’d all still be alive if it weren’t for Ginny.

Luna and Hermione still weren’t sure if protecting her had been altogether right, but they could never let her go to Azkaban. Harry had helped, and he did end up cursing Kingsley, after all.

It had helped that the only laws Ginny had officially broken were to do with trespassing. After all, she _herself_ had not hurt anyone. She’d even tried to protect people with a stone barrier, even if the barrier hadn’t ended up lasting long against the demons she’d accidentally brought through the veil.

It had been those demons that had done the damage.

Of course, both demons were now gone, and it wasn’t as if you could try a demon for murder, anyway.

Hermione and Luna did find someone with which Ginny could talk. That had been a challenge. They’d had many tricky conversations with many confused therapists. ‘What if your client had been trying to bring someone back to life, but ended up bringing terrifying monsters through a veil of death instead?’ It wasn’t exactly a question you could just ask anyone, and especially not a great question to drop on an unsuspecting muggle therapist.

It had worked out in the end, though. Well enough, at least.

Ginny ended up staying with Luna and Hermione, again, but this time they’d set firm boundaries. They’d had to be up-front about their relationship, and what they liked to do with each other.

“Hermione did quite a large amount of research before we did anything, of course,” Luna had said.

“But you did plenty of research, too, didn’t you, Luna?” said Hermione. “You were a Ravenclaw, after all.”

“I’m fairly sure I’m still a Ravenclaw, Hermione,” said Luna with a light huff, “even if I did graduate last year.” 

They made sure there was time set aside for expeditions—Ginny even joined a few—along with time alone for Luna and Hermione… and Hermione and Ginny, and Ginny and Luna. They were family. Any one of them would tell you.

And there was plenty of playtime for Luna and Hermione.

At first, Ginny made herself scarce when playtime came, Lately she’d just keep reading one book or another in a chair near the fire, glancing up from time to time with a soft smile. It really made her happy, to see their happiness about, and in turn, that made them happy.

Hermione eventually adopted another Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Simon was not Sally, and would never be. But neither would Sally ever be Simon.

Neither would their new tower ever be their old, Rook-like home, nor would their old home ever be as _theirs_ as their new one.

Memories remained memories, with new memories beside them: memories of love and play; memories of grief and sadness. And one day, even the memories would fade, along with Hermione and Luna and Ginny and everyone.

But even as they faded, they had not been any less while they wad been, for nothing can fade if it were never there to begin with.

All would end, because all had begun, and all would always have been.


End file.
